Breaking the Code
by ElaineMc
Summary: Some days are good. Some suck. Sometimes, it's the same day. A Qui-Gon / Obi-Wan story.


Breaking the Code

TITLE: Breaking the Code   
SUMMARY: Some days are good. Some suck. Sometimes, it's the same day.   
NB: This is an AU story, inspired by Kayla's Plot Bunny Challenge. 

"Good morning, Master Qui... Gon...." The padawan's salutation ground to a halt when he saw the condition of the Jedi Master. Something in the older man's gaze warned him not to say anything, though, and the young Rodian hurried off on his way.

Qui-Gon Jinn collected a breakfast tray in the meal hall, and seated himself-- carefully-- at a table with several other masters. Mace Windu, in the seat beside him, lifted an eyebrow. The other masters waited; Windu would certainly ask what had happened to his friend, thereby satisfying everyone's curiosity.

"Good morning, Qui-Gon. Don't you usually eat in your quarters?"

"Yes."

"That's quite a bruise," Windu said, sipping his tea.

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed.

"Did something happen?"

"Yes."

"Should I mind my own business?

"Yes."

Repressing a smile, Windu returned to his breakfast. The annoyingly calm, even-tempered Jinn was not looking his best. His long hair, usually neatly combed and bound back, was snarled and matted on the left side. A vivid bruise stood out on his right cheekbone. And a large patch was missing from his beard. The temptation to ask was strong; but Mace Windu had not risen to Master status by risking his life indiscriminately.

Master Yan-L-yan seated itself across from Jinn, and lifted a dorsal ridge in enquiry. "You have quite a bad bruise. Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Did you walk into something?"

Before he could reply, they were interrupted. All the masters set down their utensils, as Master Yoda approached. "Master Qui-Gon, teach the beginner's class in Philsophy, you must. Ill, the regular instructor is."

"Yes, my master."

"Master Qui-Gon?"

"Yes, my master?"

"Bad bruise, that is."

"Yes, my master."

"More careful, you should be."

"Yes, my master."

"Good morning, Masters."

"Good morning, Master Yoda," came the replies, as the Jedi Master left.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed. It was going to be an even longer day than he'd feared. 

-------- 

When he opened the door to the classroom, a wall of noise nearly drove him out again, and the sheer energy of the more than forty children was already starting to make his head ache with the effort of shielding. Not one of them was sitting still, and most of them were standing by the long bank of windows, watching the passing airships. Many of them had small bags of juice, and not all of them were very careful with them, as a wet spot or two on the tile floor showed.

A small Svivren student saw him first, and within minutes, the noisy, chaotic group of children were seated and silent. Forty sets of eyes were fixed on him; forty sets of ears ready to listen. 

"Good morning, students."

"Good morning, Master Qui-Gon," they replied, in chorus, eagerly.

He gazed out the window for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, timing it. Almost to himself, he said, "What is the Jedi Code?"

As one, the class recited: "There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no death, there is the force."

"What does that mean, Master Qui-Gon?" asked a young human boy, sitting in the front row. Qui-Gon didn't recognise him; but he had been gone for some months. 

"Which part...?" Qui-Gon asked, waiting for the boy to supply his name.

The boy blushed slightly, and stood, and bowed. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, sir. All of it, sir."

"What does it mean to you, Obi-Wan?"

The boy blushed more strongly, now, on the spot. Qui-Gon sensed waves of sympathy coming from some of the other students. 

"We... we shouldn't let our emotions control us. But we shouldn't be afraid of them, either. We shouldn't let what-- what we don't know make us feel bad, and we should try to learn. We shouldn't... uh... be afraid of death, because we just go back to the Force."

"Very good." 

The boy smiled.

"But what does it mean to _you_, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

The boy blushed yet again, even more brightly. Qui-Gon turned his attention to the class as a whole, slowly pacing in front of them as he spoke. "All of you must learn more than the Code. You must learn what it is to you-- what it truly means to you, in your heart, in your soul. The Code of the Jedi is more than words and tradition. It is the defining purpose of our lives."

The eyes of the children followed him, intently, fascinated by the Master, who was known to all of them by sight and by story. The great Qui-Gon Jinn, finest swordsman of the Jedi, trained by Master Yoda himself, defender of the innocent, scourge of the wrong-doer...

...sprawling on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Are you all right, Master Qui-Gon?" asked the timid voice of one of the Shistavanen. 

"Yes, young student." Slowly, he sat up. His downfall, he was unsurprised to see, had been one of the puddles of juice. All around him, he sensed young minds, wanting very, very much to laugh, but too polite to actually do it.

Gathering his dignity, he stood with one smooth, flowing movement that silenced even the mental giggling, replacing it with awe. 

The remainder of the class went fairly smoothly, he thought. Sure, he'd caught a fold of his robe on a desk, and nearly toppled it and its occupant; and walked into the edge of the instructor's desk and added another bruise to his collection; but all things considered, it could have been worse. He resisted the urge to rub his posterior, where no doubt an even more impressive bruise had formed.

And worst of all-- Force help him-- it wasn't even noon, yet....

-------- 

Reluctantly, he returned to his quarters within the Temple. He was relieved to find that the air circulators had got rid of the worst of the burning smell. He shed his outer robe, and moved to the bathing chamber. Once inside, he faced his reflection in the mirror, grimly. He lifted a comb.

A listener in the outer room might have thought the master was fighting a fierce battle against an inexorable enemy. The muffled expletives, occasional thump, and heavy breathing certainly suggested it.

When he was finished, Qui-Gon regarded his reflection, and shut his eyes, and counted to ten.

Then twenty.

Then fifty.

At one-hundred, his temper was securely back under control, and he opened his eyes again.

The tangles were gone-- that was a mercy. However, the effort expended to manage this had left the ends... poofy. He turned his head to the side slightly. The view didn't improve in the least. The right side was sleek and well-behaved. The left side was... poofy. He bent over the sink. _Perhaps, if I run water over it...._

The jet of scalding water that emerged from the tap was an instant reply to _that_ foolish idea. The Master bolted upright, left side of his face stinging and reddening already. He forced himself to calm down, breathing slowly and evenly through clenched teeth. 

_I'll just wear the mess in a **braid**_, he decided, and proceeded to plait his hair. To his relief, it cooperated. _Now, a tie.... _Holding the end of the thick braid in his fingers, he looked for a thong. Nothing. _There-- an elastic._

It promptly snapped. So did the second one. And the third.

Finally, he managed to secure his hair... although his dignity was in distinct absence. He deliberately avoided his reflection, this time, and stalked back out into the living room. Part of him was tempted to simply go back to bed and hide under the blankets. But the part of him that was optimistic suggested that the day could hardly get any worse; and, it was only his pride that was hurt. Jedi should be humble, after all.

"Right. Humble." Gathering his serenity and peace of mind around him with an effort, he emerged from his quarters, ready to face the afternoon. In the process, he nearly knocked over a small boy.

He looked down.

The boy looked up. And up.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, isn't it?" he asked, when it became obvious the boy wasn't going to speak first.

"Yes, sir."

"Is there something I can do for you?"

"No, sir."

There was another pause. "Are you sure?"

"No, sir."

Another pause. Qui-Gon took a slow, cleansing breath. "Would you like to walk with me?" he suggested.

The boy looked relieved. "Yes, sir, thank you."

They walked in silence for a moment. The boy spoke first, thank the Force.

"Sir-- how did you know you were going to be a Jedi?"

*So that's what's troubling him.* "The Force told me, I suppose; although I didn't know it at the time. I had thought I would be a farmer."

"So did I," Obi-Wan admitted. "But when they brought me here... I thought they had to know what they were doing. But, sir-- I think...." He trailed off.

"You think, perhaps they were wrong about you."

Obi-Wan stopped, and stared. "Yes-- but how did you know that?"

"I think everyone who has ever trained here has felt that way, at some point."

"Everyone? Even... even you?"

"Oh, yes. I couldn't seem to do anything right. I was too tall, and too thin, and I fell over my own feet constantly. I ran into people all the time, and I even knocked Master Yoda over, once."

The boy's eyes were enormous. "You didn't!"

"I'm afraid so. It wasn't one of my better moments," the Jedi admitted, still able to remember his embarrassment and horror.

"That must've been awful."

"It was. But I don't think that's your problem, is it?"

"No, sir. Nothing makes sense," he said, very quietly. "Everyone else seems to understand the lessons. I'm the only one who always has to ask a question before I get it. Sometimes I *still* don't get it, even after I ask."

"And a Jedi should always know everything."

The boy nodded. Qui-Gon could feel the misery radiating from him.

"Obi-Wan, have you ever been to the creche?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you seen the very small children? The babies?"

"Yes, sir." He looked puzzled.

"Then you've seen the way they learn to walk right away. The moment they learn to stand, they know how to walk, how to run."

"But-- but--"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"That isn't how it happens, at all!" the boy burst out, then reddened yet again. "I mean-- I'm sorry, sir, but that isn't how it happens."

"It isn't?"

"No, sir. They have to learn to... oh." 

"They have to learn to what?"

"To walk. They take little steps, and then bigger steps."

"And?"

"And? And... and sometimes, they fall down."

They were both quiet for a while, as they continued their walk.

"I think I understand, sir."

"Do you? Good."

"I guess I better go. I have class soon."

"On your way, then. Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Keep asking questions." With his best enigmatic smile, Qui-Gon strode away, down the hall, around the corner, his robe billowing out around him in approved Jedi Master style. 

Obi-Wan watched him go, eyes wide with hero-worship. He slowly turned, and headed to class, head full of new ideas.

As he strode off, Qui-Gon's mind was elsewhere, until--

"Slow down, you should," a voice said, from below him. The somewhat testy voice, of a somewhat testy Jedi Master.

"Oh. Oh, damn. May I help you up, sir?"

"Get up by myself, I can! Not that old, I am."

"Yes, sir. No, sir. Of course not, sir."

"Why in such a hurry, are you?"

"I was... Master, may we speak? I have a question for you...."

"Ask, then. Getting any younger, I am not."

-------- 

As he made his way down the Temple corridors, looking for Mace Windu, Qui-Gon reflected on his brief conversation with Yoda. Typically, the conversation had been somewhat oblique.

"I'm not really comfortable talking to the children about the Code," he had admitted. "That conversation with young Kenobi...."

"Take a padawan, you will?"

"Yes, master, someday."

"Teach him, you will?"

"Yes, master."

"Then comfortable you must become."

"Yes, master-- but how?"

"A Jedi you are. The Code, you live."

"Yes, master. But that doesn't mean I know how to _teach_ it."

"But teach it you must."

"Yes, my master," he had said, finally giving up.

He saw his friend a few yards ahead; Windu, sensing him, turned, smiling. It was a smile Qui-Gon knew he ought not to trust. The last time he had seen that smile, in fact, they had both nearly got their robe-wearing butts kicked by a hostile crowd....

"Qui-Gon," he said, smiling even more widely, "there you are."

"Here I am," he agreed, warily.

Windu handed him a towel. "Congratulations. Your shift begins in fifteen minutes."

Qui-Gon regarded him blankly. "My shift...." He looked at the towel, and light dawned. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no."

"Sorry, my friend. It's almost time for Free Swim in the children's pool. They need another instructor."

"You mean referee," Qui-Gon rumbled. He remembered the last time he'd got roped into this particular duty.

"Taun-taun, tahn-tahn," Windu shrugged.

Depa Billaba paused beside them both. "Ah, Master Windu."

He bowed slightly. "Master Billaba. May I do something for you?"

"Yes-- I've just been told that Master Kassil has been called away. We need another master for Free Swim."

Windu's face fell. Qui-Gon repressed a smirk. _Payback's a bantha, isn't it, my friend?_

Ten minutes later, the two of them and Yan-L-Yan waited in the changing room. They were each wearing shower shoes, swimming trunks, and expressions of deep dismay.

"We really should go out," Yan-L said.

"Absolutely," Windu agreed.

"Certainly," Qui-Gon nodded.

Five minutes later, they were still standing there.

"So. We should be going," Qui-Gon said.

"Right now," Yan-L agreed.

"On our way," Windu nodded.

Three minutes later, the door slammed open, and Master Dellan stalked in, followed by her padawan, and another Master Qui-Gon didn't know.. "You three. Out there. Now. The next group is arriving."

Meekly, the Jedi Masters did as they were ordered.

Five minutes later, Qui-Gon found himself facing twelve eager, bright, and smiling faces. He recognised several from the morning class, in fact. Somehow, he was not surprised to see that Obi-Wan was one of 'his' students. He snuck a peek into the next lane. Mace seemed to be doing well with his group. Yan-L was hitting it off well with his children.

He looked back at his students. Twelve sets of eyes followed his every move.

_I should do some sort of training. Develop their Jedi... something._

He looked at them. He got several very small, hesitant smiles. He smiled back... and their smiles widened.

_This is an excellent opportunity to teach them the ways of the Jedi._

He raised his left hand roughly six inches above the water. Twelve sets of eyes watched him. He opened it, palm down, flat. He raised his right hand parallel, and positioned it in the same fashion. They watched him intently. Without warning, he brought both hands sharply down on the surface of the water, creating-- with just a touch of the Force-- a satisfying wall of water, drenching the class.

The water settled. Twelve thoroughly soaked students stared at him. Twelve enormous sets of eyes were fixed on him.

And then, young Obi-Wan shrieked, "Water fight!!" and all Sith broke loose.

Half an hour later, Qui-Gon was in the best mood he'd been in all day... possibly, the best mood he'd been in in months. Except for the kick in the groin, getting his hair yanked, and getting poked in the eye, the session was going marvelously well.

"Do it again! do it again!" a chorus of twelve voices shouted. His group, he was pleased to note, was definitely the loudest in the room.

Smiling widely [in fact, his face was beginning to hurt, with all the smiling he'd done; and his sides were sore with laughing], he exerted the Force, and a small child rose high into the air. He stopped the girl when she was roughly ten metres in the air; and then let her drop.

Shrieking with glee, she hit the water, sending water spraying over everyone in the area.

"Do it again! do it again!"

Before he could comply, a very stern voice broke through the commotion.

"Master Qui-Gon!"

Qui-Gon hunched his shoulders. He knew that tone. He turned.

Master Yoda stood, watching him.

_**Some**one's in **trou**ble, _Windu sing-songed, through the Force, to his friend.

He turned back to his class. "I think we're finished for the day," he said.

"Yes, Master Qui-Gon," twelve voices chorused. Obediently, they paddled to the ladder, and climbed out.

Young Kenobi paused at the side, almost eye-to-eye with the Jedi Master. "We had lots of fun," he whispered, blushed, and then hurried off.

Master Yoda made his way from the room. Dripping, head hanging, Qui-Gon followed.

"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda began, then paused. Qui-Gon waited. Yoda paced back and forth, then began again. "Master Qui-Gon. Drop students from great heights into water you should not."

"No, my master."

"Amusing it may be, but do it you should not."

"Yes, my-- I mean, No, my master."

"Dignity masters must have."

"Yes, my master," Qui-Gon agreed. Several padawan learners passed them, as they stood in the hall. They looked at him, then at each other, then, repressing snickers, hurried on their way.

"Bad day you are having?"

"I've had better, my master." Then, recalling the Free Swim, he smiled slightly. "But I've had worse."

"Glad to hear it, I am. Go home."

"Sir?"

"Go home. Tired you are. Rest you require, my friend."

"Yes, my master. Thank you."

Yoda turned and began to shuffle off. Without turning, he added, "Do something with your hair, you must. All poofy at the ends, it is."

Qui-Gon, who had turned to leave, himself, paused, and leaned his forehead against the wall. He counted to ten. _Almost a millenia old, and he **still **can't resist a cheap shot._

-------- 

The Jedi Master stood at the balcony railing, watching the unceasing pattern of airships across the skyline. Qui-Gon himself preferred nature to artifice; but he could see the beauty in it, nonetheless. He sensed a presence, moving up behind him. He didn't need to look to see who it was.

Young Obi-Wan stepped up on the lower railing, which just let him wrap his arms around the top rail. They stood, watching as the sunset sky turned to darkness. The boy spoke first. "I'm going to be on one of those ships, some day."

"Are you?"

"Uh-huh. When I get to be a padawan. I'm going to go to all the stars in the sky."

"That's going to take you quite a while."

"Master Scirresel says we have all the time in the world."

"So you do."

There was another long silence, again broken by the boy. "One day last week was just awful. I dropped my breakfast tray *and* my dinner tray. I fell down in the exercise room. I broke the model speeder I was building. I forgot to do my history homework, so I had to stay after class."

"That's a pretty bad day," the Master agreed. 

"Tell me about it," Obi-Wan replied, in a world-weary tone. "But after dinner, my friend Lesandre split a kasabafruit with me. He told me a joke, too. Wanna hear it?"

"Certainly."

"Okay. How do you catch a unique womp-rat?"

"Hmmm. I don't know. How?"

"Unique up on it."

Qui-Gon took a moment to process this, then smiled. "Very clever. And that helped-- the joke, and the fruit?"

"Kinda... but having someone on my side really helped. That's what Jedi do. Help people. Help each other."

"Very true."

They watched as more stars began to appear, clear even over the lights of the city.

"You'd best be getting to bed, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, sir." Obedient, the boy hopped down from the rail.

"I'll walk back with you," Qui-Gon added, following an impulse. The child's eyes widened.

"You don't have to do that, sir--"

"I'd like to."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

The tall man and the small boy left the balcony, and walked down the corridor of the Jedi Temple together.

"There's another part to the joke, Master Qui-Gon."

"And what's that?"

"How do you catch a tame womp-rat?"

"I don't know. How?"

"Tame way."

The low chuckle of the man, and the higher giggle of the boy, were the only sounds in the quiet corridor. 

And overhead, the stars rose, and the airships flew, and life went on, much as usual, in the city, and in the Temple.

END


End file.
